The other boy, who appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen, was of a different kind. He, too, was a cut above the average Bolsoverian, for he was clever, and had a mind of his own. But he acted almost entirely on antipathies. He disliked everybody, except, perhaps, young Forrester, and he found fault with everything. Scarfe--that was his name was a Sixth Form boy, who did the right thing because he disliked doing what everybody else did, which was usually the wrong. He disliked his school-fellows, and therefore was not displeased with Mr Frampton's reforms; but he disliked Mr Frampton and the new masters, and therefore hoped the school would resist their authority. As for what he himself should do, that would depend on which particular antipathy was uppermost when the time came. Curiously enough, Bolsover by no means disliked Scarfe. They rather respected a fellow who had ideas of his own, when they themselves had so few; and as each boy, as a rule, could sympathise with his dislike of everybody else, with one exception, he found plenty of adherents and not a few toadies. Forrester was about the only boy he really did not dislike, because Forrester did not care twopence whether any one liked him or not, and he himself was quite fond of Scarfe. "What do you think the fellows will do?" said the junior, after attempting for the sixth time to "drop" the ball over the goal without success. "Why, obey, of course," said Scarfe scornfully. "Shall you?" "I suppose so." "Why, I thought you were going to stick out." "No doubt a lot of the fellows would like it if I did. They always like somebody else to do what they don't care to do themselves." "Well, you and I'll be on different sides," said the youngster, making another vain attempt at the goal. "I'm sorry for you, my boy." "So am I; I'd like to see the Sixth beaten. But there's not much chance of it if the kicking's left to you." "I tell you what," said Forrester, ignoring the gibe. "I'm curious to know what Cad Jeffreys means to do. We're bound to have some fun if he's in it." "Cad Jeffreys," said Scarfe, with a slight increase of scorn in his face and voice, "will probably assist the School by playing for the Sixth." Forrester laughed. "I hear he nearly drowned himself in the bath the first day, and half scragged Shrimpton for grinning at him. If he gets on as well at football, Frampton will have something to answer for. Why, here he comes." "Suppose you invite him to come and have a knock up with the ball," suggested the senior.